General

misunderstood snows
preserving not destroying
life’s unsung lover

The winter ice melts and these dark thoughts thaw.
Cold footsteps embrace emancipated earth.
We have waded knee-deep through time’s frozen paths
In days so long, and nights that seem to never end.
To find this place where crystals gleam in green rebirth-
The drip and drop of hope,
The trickle of new beginnings.

cold’s molten portends
nature’s prisms refract futures
on the cusp of Spring

These paths be lonely, these paths be watched.
The destination must fuel the journey
And yet to skulk to an end, is to taint end’s reward
To sour the sweetness of memory, and to blight the lessons learnt.
So dance the path to dreams, and sing your jig of hope
Sing that we may find you, dance like Russians old
Making memories, meeting…

Away from the mediocrity of life

the call of nature tugs my nomadic heart

to tread the lonely path, deep into the unblemished locales.

I escape from the ordinary,

letting the wings of freedom carry me into the wilderness.

Tall primeval trees stand on snow clad ground

whispering stories of silent loneliness.

In isolation of my sanctuary, feelings pour out,

the letters soak in the essence of nature’s hues

thaw those emotions on to the paper.

 I script the trail of my journey, the wanderlust tales!

Sadje’s WDYS prompt

Reena’s Xploration Challenge prompt 221

My second cross-continental collaboration with artist, Suzanne Starr.

This story was inspired by Suzanne’s drawing which I saw on my LinkedIn feed. Once again, I found the images of her characters so compelling that I had to write their story.

You can find more of Suzanne’s artwork at www.suzannestarart.com – do check it out!

‘He’s Back’ charcoal drawing by Suzanne Starr*

Part of my Flash Fiction collection

He’s Back

‘That’s a pretty dress, Miss Clara,’ said the Stork, as the little girl approached him. ‘Oh, but you look sad on your birthday. Why?’ She is so tall now, he thought.

‘I wish I could just fly away like you do,’ Clara looked up at him with her large brown eyes.

‘What’s wrong, Miss Clara? You have a lovely home with people who care for you. Why are you unhappy?’

‘It’s just that I feel like…

Life is like a game of scrabble,

You pick dares, you want to dabble,

A mix of consonants and vowels, in good measure,

To script your life, as you desire,

Words like, ‘courage’, ‘integrity’, ‘resilience’, ‘loyalty’,

Mould character, to rise to challenges, victoriously.

https://reinventions.reena.wordpress.com

Arranging the blocks and alphabets frantically 
She wants to create order out of disorder 
Harmony is important to her, perhaps too much
Her mind rebels at the suggestion of disarray 
When her own life lays in shambles, broken
And she cannot arrange it into a neat pattern
She appeases her inner turmoil by creating 
Order in the external environment around her

➰➰➰

This week we give you two images. You can choose any one or both, and base your piece on whatever comes to mind.

Written for RXC #221, hosted by Reena

#Keepitalive

#RXC

Visit Me

i dream of you
in the early mornings of the days
when sunshine isn’t warm
and clouds isn’t dim
you’re playfully amazing
as i knew you would be
in your vague cute little face.

a vision of your smile
is all that i ever have
in my make believe nursery room
i would have built and designed
should you have
victoriously made it
out in this world
on your ninth month.

rest now my little angel
but visit me soon
anytime you want
and maybe then
you could stay longer
let me remember
the vagueness of your face
this time; clearer and distinct
visit me in the stillness of the night.

Losing a baby in pregnancy through miscarriage or stillbirth is still a taboo subject worldwide, linked to stigma and shame. Many women still do not receive appropriate and respectful care when their baby dies during pregnancy or…

Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Survival & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #221

a series of building blocks
set the foundation
master them well
or fall like dominos
but know
life is a strategic gamble
not mastered
only with good guidance
individuality, authenticity, and risk add value
a quality of life
maybe

Class today we will be learning about the alphabet.  Can anyone tell me how many letters are in the alphabet?  Bobby raised his hand and Miss Walker said, “Yes Bobby” and Bobby said, “There are 26 letters are in the Klingon alphabet.”  The whole class broke out laughing, which is exactly what Bobby wanted.  Miss Walker said, “That is very good Bobby, but I was referring to our English alphabet, which was based on the Latin alphabet, and it also consists of 26 letters, each having an upper- and a lower-case form.  Our alphabet originated from Old English, which came before the Modern English language, and it was spoken between the 5th and 12th centuries.  English was first written in the Anglo-Saxon futhorc runic alphabet, also known as Anglo-Saxon.  The Angles and Saxons came from Germany and settled in Britain in the fifth century.  The region they inhabited became known as ‘Angle-land’, or England.”

Bobby raised his…